


The Captain's Guilt

by aimeewrites



Series: The Captain's Training [3]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst, F/F, Kathryn Janeway Needs a Hug, Whipping, happy ending - sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:07:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24931294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aimeewrites/pseuds/aimeewrites
Summary: takes place after Tuvix's death - Kathryn Janeway tries to find solace and dreams of an impossible relationship
Relationships: Kathryn Janeway/B'Elanna Torres
Series: The Captain's Training [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952092
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not easy to write for a fandom where so much has been written  
> would love your comments! I'll see if I add more chapters then

The Captain came out of sickbay and paused in the corridor, almost bent double. For a minute, she feared she would be sick and she swallowed hard, realising then that her jaw was hurting from having clenched her teeth during the whole procedure. She managed to make it back to her quarters, where she threw herself on the padded leather couch and curled into a ball. She buried her head into her arms and began to sob as silently as possible. As much as she needed privacy, she knew she couldn’t have it on a spaceship. The walls were far from soundproof. In fact, only in the holodecks was one really “alone”, and even then, all too often, Kathryn Janeway let herself drown into her own thoughts. She tried to take a deep breath to calm herself down, all too aware she could be called to the bridge or to engineering at any moment. And indeed, a few minutes later, she heard the familiar “Bridge to Janeway” call and had to leave the relative privacy of her quarters. Glancing at a mirror, she repaired the damage she had done to her hair – she couldn’t lose control, couldn’t appear to be anything less than perfect. And yet, she was keenly aware of the irony of her gesture – she was worried about a stray lock, when she had just killed a man. For all the training she had had at the Academy, nothing had prepared her for that.

Once on the bridge, she felt every eye on her – everyone knew what she had done. No secrets on a spaceship, and anyway, she hadn’t intended it to be one. Tuvix himself had made sure he wouldn’t die in silence, but even if he hadn’t, she wouldn’t have tried to conceal his death from the rest of the crew. She was the captain – she had, in theory, the power of life and death on her crew in extreme circumstances – but this weighted heavily on her conscience. Chakotay gave her a small smile of encouragement, and she thought she could read in Harry Kim’s eyes a trace of forgiveness, but all she really saw was condemnation. She straightened her already ramrod-straight back, walked to her chair and barked “Report!”. She would do her duty – whatever it cost her.

That evening, once finally alone in her quarters and reasonably sure she would not be disturbed, Kathryn Janeway took off her uniform and put on a comfortable plush dressing-gown. She needed warmth. Unable to go to bed, and unwilling to – she knew sleep would only bring nightmares – she replayed the sickbay events in her mind. How the doctor had refused to put an end to Tuvix’s life and how she had been forced to take command. The pain in Tuvix’s eyes, her own steeliness, and Kes’ joy in seeing her beloved Neelix again. A small positive in an ocean of grief. What she desperately needed was someone to tell her whether her actions had been justified. Even though Chakotay had backed her up, she knew it hadn’t been easy for him, and she had hated to have to rely on his opinion. Because in the end, his opinion did not matter – he was the First Officer, but she was the Captain – she was the one in charge. In fact, she knew the opinion of one person only mattered to her. There was only one person she could trust to be unflinchingly honest with her, only one person whose opinion she valued. And that person had been hiding herself in engineering all day. Of course, if Kathryn wanted – if she dared, she could just call her on the intercom… “Janeway to Torres” … “Torres, respond”… And eventually, B’Elanna Torres would come to her. No one would think anything of it – they were both scientists, both dedicated to their jobs and they sometimes talked shop after hours. No – no one would think anything of it – not even B’Elanna.

Kathryn Janeway sighed. She couldn’t do it – for so many reasons. Maybe she could go to the holodeck. Maybe that would be enough to assuage her guilt and alleviate her pain. But she knew it wouldn’t. She needed a real person to hold her accountable – and that person was B’Elanna Torres. From the first moments the fiery half-Klingon woman had been on Voyager, the Captain had known they would have a special relationship. Or maybe a special non-relationship. Because, even if she hadn’t been the captain, there would have been the small matter of that age-old policy – the one thing 24th-century Starfleet had thought it would resurrect from the 20th century… Don’t ask, don’t tell… Even worse, in fact – same-sex relationships were strictly prohibited in Starfleet. Not that she had ever really thought about it before… Well, before she had got herself and her crew stranded in The Delta Quadrant. Even though at the Academy, before Mark – long before Mark, there had been that senior… But it had just been a schoolgirl crush. With B’Elanna… It was different. She sighed. Even thinking of Lieutenant Torres gave her that strange feeling – a feeling of elation coupled with despair she had never experienced before. She had been happy with Mark – of course she had – after all, they were going to get married. But – this was different – this send little shivers down her spine, this gave her butterflies in her stomach. And she couldn’t do anything about it. Once or twice, she had caught herself laying her hand on Miss Torres’ shoulders – usually after they had both – together – found a solution to an unsolvable problem – and there were many on Voyager. When they shared a mind, she could almost imagine they shared more. And in her head, Kathryn imagined B’Elanna standing there, in her quarters. Or maybe not standing – maybe B’Elanna would be sitting on the couch, and she would be the one standing, head lowered. Or maybe kneeling at her feet, asking for atonement for the crime she had unwillingly, but not unwittingly committed.


	2. Chapter 2

As the days went on, Kathryn Janeway expected to feel better, not worse. However, each time she saw Tuvok or Neelix, she got a bitter taste in her mouth. Her nights remained decidedly sleepless, and she sometimes wondered how she could still function. Desperate for relief, she found time to go to the holodeck and create a special program. At first, she decided on a Starfleet court-martial – she had read enough about the Burnham case and the Kirk case to create a credible one. She gave herself three judges – Admiral Patterson, Admiral Paris, and Admiral X – the latter she created biased against herself. The Captain knew that if they ever went back to the Alpha Quadrant, she risked facing a real court, but she couldn’t wait that long. So for a week, she stood trial in the holodeck, and acting as her own advocate, she tried to defend herself as best as she could, all the while knowing that deep down , she wanted – no, she needed to be found guilty. And so she was. At the end of the week, she was indeed demoted and thrown into the Brig for the rest of her life. But when the usual “Bridge to Captain Janeway” came through the intercom… She had to go back to reality – a reality where she was still the captain of a starship, and where no one held her accountable.

The next week, she decided on a more drastic approach – all the while hating herself for doing it, she made a holo-B’Elanna her judge – her only judge. And from her, she asked for what Starfleet would never sentence her to. For the crimes of having killed a man and loving a woman, she asked the program for an old-fashioned Earth punishment. Like disobedient sailors in the 19th century, she would be flogged publicly, on the Bridge. She was seized by two burly men and dragged to a replica of her own Bridge, where every crew member of Voyager had gathered to witness her chastisement and her shame. They held her until the arrival of B’Elanna and when the Lieutenant came in, a cat-o-nine tails in her hands, they pushed Kathryn roughly to her knees in front of the half-Klingon woman.

“I’m sorry – I’m so, so sorry,” murmured the Captain. She began to feel scared – not of the punishment, but of humiliating herself by crying or screaming for mercy.

“Janeway, you have been sentenced to thirty lashes”. The half-Klingon’s voice was dispassionate, and Kathryn shivered involuntarily. Every word already hit like the whip.

The sailors hauled her to her feet and dragged her to a makeshift mast, tying her wrist around it. And then everything happened at once. A scream, and a fiery pain on her back. After the first lash, she tried to remain silent, biting her lips hard enough to draw blood, and after that initial anguished wail, she managed. At the end of the whipping, she was untied and once again thrown at the Lieutenant’s feet. Her throat hoarse from unuttered screams, she once again pleaded for forgiveness, but B’Elanna only glanced at her contemptuously and left the Bridge.

“Computer, end program.”

For a moment, Kathryn feared she wouldn’t be heard. She was. She beamed herself to her quarters, as she could not have faced any of her crew members. If the setting had been holographic, her bloodied lip and her shredded back were all too real. Only in her quarters did she realise she hadn’t thought this out carefully enough. Using the dermo-regenerator, she healed her lip and parts of her back, but she couldn’t reach far enough, and a bar of agony remained in the middle. Could it become infected? Had the holo-program been that realistic? She had no way of knowing. After all, she had wanted to suffer. She would manage.

Two days later, the pain remained – every step she took re-opened the scars, and she was aware she probably didn’t stand as straight as usual. This time, instead of forgiveness, she imagined she could see pity in the crew’s eyes – pity, or was it contempt? She couldn’t be sure. No one dared to ask her how she was feeling. Chakotay had tried, and she had bitten his head off. When she heard the usual “Engineering to Captain Janeway”, she sighed and stood up gingerly. She mechanically put her hands on her hips and winced as her thumbs brushed her back.

“Yes?”

“There’s something you need to see, Captain – something to do with the plasma warp core.”

“On my way.”

As Kathryn Janeway stood in Engineering, listening to B’Elanna explain her new project – how to enhance the warp core – the ship was brutally jolted and she was thrown on the floor, back first. Falls were a common enough occurrence on Voyager, but she hadn’t taken her usual precautions to break her fall and she couldn’t stifle her scream – her whole back lit up in agony.

“Captain! Are you hurt? Here – let me – I’ll beam us to sickbay.”

“No – no – please, Lieutenant – please- I’ll be…”

A wave of nausea engulfed her and the captain thought she was going to faint. “Please, B’Elanna – just – just take me to my quarters, and I’ll explain – please.”

The young engineer frowned, but Captain Janeway’s orders were not to be disobeyed. Once in the captain’s quarters, she helped the older woman to sit on the couch. Kathryn swallowed hard and buried her head in her hands. Then she looked up and gestured to B’Elanna to sit next to her.

“I want you to promise you won’t tell anyone”, Kathryn started.

B’Elanna was about to protest, but the fierce expression on the captain’s face dissuaded her.

“I won’t, Captain. You have my word.”

“Thank you,” murmured Kathryn. Slowly, agonisingly, she took off her jacket and her turtleneck, and then, wearing only her bra, she exposed her back to her lieutenant. She heard the young woman gasp and closed her eyes – why was she doing this? B’Elanna would tell Chakotay, and he would relieve her of command. Or she would tell the Doctor – or… She felt herself blush with shame, and at the same time, shiver from fear. Who was she trying to deceive? She wasn’t afraid of their judgement. Only one person mattered, and that person was now looking at her scars. As slowly as she had turned her back to B’Elanna, she pivoted again and faced her. The expression on the young half-Klingon’s face was indecipherable.

“Do I still have your word?” asked Kathryn, half-bitterly, half-jokingly.

B’Elanna cleared her throat and spoke up: “I would never betray you, Captain. I – I can’t say I know what happened to you, but… I imagine you fought a hard battle, and you are wearing its scars. There is nothing dishonourable in that. But please let me tend to your wounds – I’m afraid some of them are already becoming septic.”

Kathryn Janeway stood up carefully and went to get her dermo-regenerator. Without a word, she then knelt at B’Elanna’s feet, presenting her back to her. The young engineer ran the device along each scar and Kathryn flinched at every light touch.

“There. You should be more comfortable.”

She only hesitated for a second before turning around, still on her knees, and burying her head in B’Elanna’s lap. The lieutenant did not hesitate to caress her captain’s hair, reaching to untie the strict ponytail. She then reached out with her hand, lifted Kathryn’s face to her and kissed her, first on her brow, then on her cheeks, and by the time B’Elanna’s lips had reached Kathryn’s, the captain was crying. The morning found them entwined on the captain’s couch.


End file.
